A Little Bit Late
by Shadow of the Forgotten Ones
Summary: Harry doesn't enter the kitchen much. Not to get tea. Not too cook. He can't stand too. Can't stomach the thought of going in there and not see a youthful body swaying along to a song. He can't stand the thought of there not being laughter in the air, the scent of food cooking wrapping around him. Turning to see the table empty of his lover would kill him.


**AN: This was spawned by a commercial and is going to be part one of a series. Feel free to offer up commercials you think will make cute fanfics. I may just write it.**

Harry doesn't enter the kitchen much. Not to get tea. Not too cook. He can't stand too. Can't stomach the thought of going in there and not see a youthful body swaying along to a song. He can't stand the thought of there not being laughter in the air, the scent of food cooking wrapping around him. Turning to see the table empty of his lover would kill him. So he stays out of it, ordering takeout or eating out. In fact, if it hadn't been for Merlin, and he had been the tough, no-nonsense Merlin instead of the sneakily snarky Hamish, the kitchen would be exactly how _he_ left it. Mouldy and unbefitting of a gentleman it would have become. Harry would never have had the heart to clean up by himself because that would mean accepting what had happened.

But Merlin had come with Michelle and Daisy in tow. He had come with grim determination and a plan. While Harry was busy with Daisy, a teenager but still in need of Uncle Harry's love, the other two had cleaned. Merlin had tackled the kitchen, stuffy, stinking and a monument to Harry's last happy hours. Michelle did the rest of the house, even going so far as to go into the kitchen after Merlin and setting out a single cup and plate. Empty and clean they sit on the table just how Eggsy left them.

"For closure," she had said when Merlin looked ready to blow a fuse. Understanding in her eyes that Merlin hoped he never had to understand. Harry knew it. Harry was the reason why it was there. Lee. He had been the one to recruit her husband.

"For remembrance and a chance for control," she had whispered when she hugged him goodbye. He had the choice to let shrine stay or put it away. He had a physical way of moving on. Never forgetting. Never. Not when the ghost of a too pure soul lingers everywhere.

Today though. Today Harry enters the kitchen. He gently rinses off the dishes.

" _So next week is our anniversary."_

" _It is indeed."_

Dries them off with a single-minded determination.

 _Small hands touch his. Calloused and warm the fingers slot together. Eggsy rests his chin on Harry's shoulder._

" _Got a plan for that day so keep it open. World ending disasters aside."_

" _Yes dear."_

Dries them off, shoulders tense as he turns to put them away.

 _Something clatters to the floor. Harry turns in time to see Eggsy's face twist. A hand reaches up to his chest. And then the world fast forwards. He holds onto Eggsy, waiting, scared and begging to a god he doesn't believe in. Eggsy is too young for a heart attack, too active. There is no way. It has to be foul play. It has to be._

The cabinet slams shut and he rests his head on the door. Today. Today. He doesn't cry. He's not sure he can. Six years is too long and too short of a time to regain tears.

 _But it wasn't. All natural. Foul play does, in a roundabout way, a part in Eggsy's death. A clot. Caused one way or another when he was injured on the job, hence foul play. It traveled to his dear boy's heart and took him away._

He cooks. Slowly and carefully. Just how Eggsy taught him. The movements exact but messy. In his mind, he can still hear Eggsy. Can still feel the huff of breath when he laughed. It carried Harry through. Distantly he hears the door open. Hears Daisy call out. She's on time, dressed to the nines in her Kingsman suit. Food is plated and they sit down.

His heart hammers as Daisy looks down at the simple dinner. She looks back up at him, a small smile on her face.

"Eggsy would be proud."

He forces out a laugh, heart calming down. Eggsy would be proud.

"He would."

 _Happy anniversary love_ , he thinks taking a bite of the food.


End file.
